Mario Brothers: Darkening Kingdom
by Boorgeist
Summary: A fantastical reimagining of the Super Mario Bros. saga. The Mario Brothers happen upon an doorway to a world unimaginable, and are set on a perilous quest weaved by fate to bring end to the tyrannical Koopa Empire.
1. I: The Boy in the Mushroom Hat

**CHAPTER ONE:**

**THE BOY IN THE MUSHROOM HAT**

The sun had just set and the mist was beginning to spill into the valley that was nestled between the rolling mountains of the island. The trees that sprung up from in between them were shrouded in the steadily relinquishing grasp of the vapor. The mountains remained a blackened shadow against the darkened sky of the night.

In the forest beneath, figures moved about; passing through the paths winding around the towering trunks. They rode scaly beasts – Yoshi; the reptilian steeds native to the island. The Yoshi bucked their heads as they walked, like pigeons strutting about a courtyard. There were three of them, each with two riders. They were the Royal Guard, and leading the group of six was the Princess of the Kingdom.

Toad, a young boy wearing a peculiar mushroom-shaped hat, was seated behind the Princess on the leading Yoshi. He cradled two baby boys in his arms. Both of them were asleep, swaddled in blankets that their mother had knitted for them. He wondered if it was true, what everyone was saying. There had been hushed talk in the village of these boys being strange – that they were yet to do something spectacular or terrifying. Toad knew of no truth in these rumors. After all, they were just children, and human children at that. They had no magic to wreak destruction with.

The Princess seemed optimistic about them – though she said little. There was a real sense of urgency about the entire ordeal, and getting the children "out" as quickly as possible was the single highest priority.

At the end of the trail, there was a warp-zone. Toad knew very little of the magic that warp involved, but knew it had to do a lot with numbers. All that he really needed to know about the warp-zone was that, for whatever reason, it would transport something from one place to another. This particular warp-zone had been placed there specifically for this occasion – but as Toad looked down at the children in his arms, he couldn't see how that was possible. The boys were only hours old when they were snatched from their mother's arms and carried off by the Royal Guard. The island they were on was such an exotic location, far off from the boys' home. Yet, on the far-off island, someone (or more likely, a team or practiced sorcerers) had gone out of their way to initiate a warp-zone. The question lingered in Toad's mind: How had they known these children were to be born on this day?

He would have asked the Princess himself, but there had been a strict order on keeping silent. They did not want to be found out – particularly by the wrong sorts of creatures.

_Koopas._ The vast turtle race of the Eighth World. Toad had heard all types of awful stories coming from the volcanic desert that those wretched beasts call home. The soldiers had told him tales of a land whose air was smoke and soil was soot, where no grass grew, whose endless armies were fed with only what they could steal and gather from the remaining seven realms. The Yoshi's island was mere miles from the coastline of the Koopa province; it was a frightening reminder of the wrath that lay just beyond.

But now, beneath the immense green canopy of the forest of the isle, Toad became distracted from thoughts of Koopas. Anticipation was in the air. They must be getting close. The warp-zone had to be within walking distance.

And then the atmosphere grew strangely quiet. Maybe it was that a breeze had died, or perhaps leaves on the ground were diminishing. He thought about it, but then he realized why – the animals had stopped making noises. There were no crickets chirping or birds whistling. It was like they had all been muffled by a strange blanket, a warm gust that swept in and then turned cold again. There was not a sound to be heard throughout the dense jungle.

Looking back, Toad could see the faces of the four guards on the two Yoshi that trailed his. Beads of sweat dripped past their brows. Their eyes flicked back and forth frantically. The pair on the rear Yoshi drew swords, sliding them out of the sheaths little by little, paying meticulous detail to keeping silent. Toad turned to face the Princess. She too appeared hesitant. Her blue eyes gazed into his reassuringly from beneath strands of her golden hair.

WHOOSH!

Something sliced through the sky far above the canopy. The guards' eyes shot around, scanning for any sign of movement. Defensively, they steered their two Yoshi to either side of the Princess's steed.

Toad looked down, squeezing the infants in his arms. Something inside of him broke loose and dread shot through his veins. He did not, however, fear for his own life. It was the Princess, to be sure. He did fear for her life, as he did for all his short years as one of her attendants. But further than that - it was the children. He couldn't let them be harmed. He wouldn't. Not after coming all this way, across the Kingdom and past the sea. This was his task. Today, this is what he was entrusted with.

But what was that noise? Were they being watched this whole time? Was there some wild animal loose? Could it overpower the guards? Or was it something far worse…? The fear multiplied, thickening in his gut. He felt weighed down, nauseous. Really, he felt like craning over and expelling the contents of his stomach, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was far more restrained by the terror of producing a sound. All these sensations built to a horrible finale when he heard a guard scream from the Yoshi beside him.

"PARATROOPERS!"

In an instant, Toad was flung forth. His Yoshi launched onward, screeching as it did so. Something tore through the trees behind him. Beams of setting sunlight broke through the shattered canopy. The light danced, obscuring his senses.

A callous roar ripped through the air, then another. There was more than one pursuer. Paratroopers… winged Koopas. Another cry came out, this time very human, followed by a thud. Screams echoed out, fading further as Toad and the Princess tore down the path.

Abruptly, Toad felt his weight being shifted. He fell backwards. The world was spinning. Grass met his face. His arms were still wrapped firmly around the children. With dizzying eyes, he peered up. The Princess was scampering up from beside him, struggling to steady herself. Their Yoshi was nowhere in sight. It must have thrown them off, more focused on saving its own life than theirs. The Paratroopers howled distantly, but gaining in volume – they were approaching.

Toad looked around. They were in some kind of glade or clearing. Tall stalks of grass shot up all around them, drifting slightly in the breeze that slipped through the trees. It may have been a tranquil place, had they not been chased there by the threat of painful death snapping at the backs of their necks.

Suddenly, Toad felt the Princess grasp his collar and hurriedly dragged him behind a nearby tree. She looked at him, still maintaining composure.

"The warp-zone is not far," she said, urgency prevalent in her tone, "It is in the cavern at the end of the road. Do what you must. Be quick. We may not have much time."

With that, she departed, stepping back into the clearing. Toad felt anchored to the spot. He knew his duty. He knew he had to leave… but abandon the Princess? He could do no such thing. It was his very instinct – the thing he was trained not to do. But here he was, rooted to the spot in a cold sweat with two children who hadn't even been in their mother's arms long enough to be given names.

He glanced down at the children. They wore nothing but their blankets and shimmering star-shaped pendants draped around their necks. Were they truly worth this effort, this sacrifice?

Something stepped out into the clearing. Toad ducked down behind the grass and slid to the base of the tree. He saw a shadow come into view. It was huge, perhaps twice his size, but it clearly wasn't a Paratrooper. There was a thick mist formed about its waist, slowly disappearing back inside of a clunky metallic belt. The thing carried a long whip, made out of some kind of animal hide and tipped with a serrated hook. A broad set of goggles were strapped to its eyes just underneath a thin sheet of matted hair. Its yellowed scales were riddled with old scars. The creature was most definitely a Koopa, but unlike any Toad had ever seen before.

Out of the corner of his eye, Toad could see the Princess. Her pink gown was shredded and her skin was battered and dirty. She glared contemptuously at the Koopa approaching her.

She spoke its name with disdain, "Lakitu…"

Lakitu bared his pointed teeth in what could be interpreted as a facsimile of a condescending grin. He adjusted his clasp on his whip with a gloved hand. It was a stiff glove, seemingly made of steel – wired with long strings arcing and interconnecting like veins stemming from the wrist. The thick arched ropes wound back into the rear of the armor he wore covering his shell.

There was a ringing silence gripping the jungle, punctuated only by the soft crushing of grass beneath Lakitu's boots. He said nothing, continuing to advance towards the Princess.

Toad had to do something. The Princess was in danger! It had always been his duty to protect her. But to do so would forgo everything she sacrificed her safety for. Responsibility tried to push him forward. Terror held him down.

Just then, another Koopa stomped into the glade. It towered over Lakitu with its terrible wings folded behind its back. Toad had never seen a Paratrooper before, and he was sure he never wanted to see one again. Its hollow, skeletal face was drawn up into a militaristic frown. It was much stockier than its common wingless counterpart, and sporting sharp bronze-coloured eyes, which surveyed the area closely before continuing further into the clearing.

The Paratrooper approached Lakitu, speaking in a hollow, gravel-toned voice. "There is no sign of the human nurslings, Commander."

"Have you searched all of them?" Lakitu hissed, twisting his body in the Paratrooper's direction just slightly enough to acknowledge him, but not once stealing his gaze away from the Princess.

"Yes, Commander. Not one had them and none would talk."

Lakitu bit his lower lip in frustration. He had failed. "Then we shall move to the secondary directive," he croaked.

"As you will, Commander."

The Paratrooper crept towards the Princess. She backed up slightly, dwarfed by its enormous presence. Again, Toad felt a surge of determination attempting to drive him to do something. Struggling, he kept in place, biting down on the inside of his cheek to prevent him from screaming out helplessly.

Immediately the Paratrooper launched itself at the Princess, its wings snapping out into the air. In an instant, she whipped her hands in front of her. A beam of red light erupted. The Paratrooper flew backwards, skidding to a halt at the base of a tree at the far end of the glade. It got up seconds later and threw itself back in her direction for a second assault. Its face was twisted terribly, seeking revenge for the sudden burst of magic.

The beast tackled the Princess to the ground, reaching its serrated mouth for her throat, but was met with an abrupt but direct kick to the face by Lakitu. It fell sideways dumbly, gazing up at its commander with confusion in its beady bronze eyes.

"Do not kill her!" Lakitu shrieked at the winged menace, his eyes popping madly underneath his thick goggles, winding up and kicking the creature for a second time. "Lord Bowser requires she be left alive!"

Toad watched the Princess slip away. She crawled forwards, leaving a trail of flattened grass behind her. Quickly, she stood up, ready to run.

Lakitu spotted her. Angered, he lashed his whip. Its hook fixed on the Princess's dress. Caught by surprise, she was suddenly dragged back along the ground and into the grip of the Koopa Commander.

BANG! Another flash of light. Lakitu stumbled. The Princess fell again, clawing at the grass to scurry away.

Lakitu roared. He abandoned his whip, instead leaping forward at the Princess and closing his gloved hand around her arm. Energy surged. Perhaps it was lightning. Yellow light shocked the area, casting thick shadows from the surrounding trees. There was a loud crack and the Princess fell limp.

The Koopa Commander shook his glove slightly. Toad saw smoke billowing from its palm. There was a heavy weight quickly blasting its way downwards in the pit of his stomach. The Princess was beyond help now. Had he killed her? No… she stirred slightly. One of her blue eyes stretched open languidly and closed again. A sickly groan escaped her throat as her head lolled about in the Commander's scaly hands.

"Magic as it would seem," Lakitu said, as he adjusted his grasp on her, "is nothing to the machine."

The Paratrooper's wings beat the air and the belt around Lakitu's waist exploded in a great burst of steam. Immediately, the group of Koopas took flight. Toad watched in a horrible mixture of awe and horror as Lakitu, propelled by his cloud-like device, ascended into the night sky with the Princess in hand. His eyes remained until they were out of sight, a sensation reverberating in his chest representing whatever hope he had that she would return soon and safe.

Oh how would he help her? How could this happen? What kind of doom would this bring upon the Kingdom? They were all in a great peril! The Kingdom was leaderless, and was it not his fault?

Toad forced himself to overcome this hazardous sense of protection. He could not help the Princess now. They were far beyond sight, there were far too many of them, but most poignantly: it was not his task. Not today.

He glanced down at the twin brothers in his arms. Both were strangely soundless. Not a cry escaped their lips – but they were worried. He could see their brows knitting in whatever concern could be felt at such a novel age. Whatever they were feeling, he identified a kinship in it. As he remained behind that tree with a bundle of life in his arms, Toad knew that primal fear: unknowing.

The Princess was gone. The future was shrouded. The more he thought about it, the bleaker it became. In seconds that passed like centuries, he hauled himself from the wet ground and trekked onward. Hot tears fell from his face, smashing into the grass below him. He pressed the boys against his chest. Nothing could ever take them. He wouldn't allow it. Not even the gentle breeze that now whistled its atonal call through the twisting folds of the island's flora.

And in seeing Toad cry, one of the boys did too. He wailed, and Toad could not see a reason to quiet him. The Koopas had forsaken the island for tonight. Perhaps they believed the passage of the Princess to be a ruse, and that the true warp-zone was elsewhere. Regardless, it did not matter now.

Beyond was the cave the Princess had spoke of. If he had not been aware it was his destination, Toad may not have spotted it at all. It was a mere dent in the rock face of a steep hill that ascended to the right of the beaten trail, but beyond its corners shone a subtle glow.

Upon entering the cavern, Toad saw the light source. Of the three discernable walls bordering the tiny room, the farthest was more or less absent. In its place, a flickering surface just vaguely reminiscent of the craggy stone it was swapped for. It gave out a calming radiance, and upon closer inspection, seemed to be quite intangible. It was a mere ghost of a surface. Toad knew to stand clear of it, lest he be whisked away to wherever the warp-zone was assigned to.

He gazed down at the children in his arms. The light of the warp-zone from behind them cloaked their faces in shadow. One of the boys, the one who was not crying, looked up at Toad. In that second, Toad saw what these children would feel: lost, hopeless and confused in whatever place the warp-zone spat them out into. They would grow up without their birth parents, without knowing who they truly were. It was such a forfeit, but it had to be done.

He wasn't sure what effect it would have, but he looked at the boy who did not cry. And in those final seconds he whispered to the child.

"I know not who you truly are. I know not why you have been selected to wear the mark of the Kingdom around your neck. I know not the things you will seek to accomplish, or those things others seek of you. But I know I must protect you for a purpose; and it is for that purpose that I am assured you are destined for greatness unforeseeable…" He paused briefly, slowly approaching the ghostly cave wall. "And when that time comes, you shall return to us. I know that to be true."

Toad reached forth, thrusting the bundle towards the wall. There was a tug at his fingertips and a beckoning in the back of his mind. And for a second, he clutched at the hem of the blankets that bound the brothers. His fingers slipped reluctantly. Beyond that, there was no more. They were on their way past the edge now, floating into the distance and out of sight.

Silence enveloped once more.

In the incoming night on Yoshi's Island, Toad was alone.


	2. II: The Brothers Mario

**CHAPTER TWO:**

**THE BROTHERS MARIO**

Mario had to talk to Luigi. It had been two long years since it had last happened, and that conversation was short, harsh, and to the point. He intended to avoid such a result again. It was daring, even potentially disastrous to even give it an attempt.

There was a great magnetizing grip that had led him to board the train to cross from Manhattan to Brooklyn and shuffle his way up to the little two-storey shop with a tiny living space confined in its upper level. It was well past the closing hour, but Mario knew his brother was in: he could see the shadow of the man faintly in the top-right window. Just the sight alone sent his pulse into an anxious frenzy.

There was a doorbell, or rather a buzzer of sorts. Mario's finger hovered above it tensely as he wondered if he should even proceed. The cold night air bit at his exposed hand. He thought about the window. Hadn't that once been his room? Likely in his absence, Luigi had converted the area into a workable office. After all, it was the bigger of the two bedrooms. Maybe now, he finally had more space. Maybe now, Mario considered, Luigi was much better off than any time before.

To think: his pay must have essentially doubled, and consequently, his budget. Living alone must have been a comfortable thing for him. Mario considered that disturbing such a peace was unwise.

But since when was he so enlightened? It wasn't much like him to take that reserved stance, so Mario, thinking nothing more of it, jabbed is hand at the button. Not a second later, he felt a sting of regret. A ringing electronic drone resonated from within the shop. Past the door, there was shuffling and a tall shadow bouncing around the glass of the windows.

Mario shoved away that pang of remorse, rendering it simply momentary. What was done was done. The doorbell had sounded. Someone was approaching. He couldn't go back now.

Then, a sleepy voice from inside spoke, and it made Mario's heart do hurdles in his chest. He chewed his lower lip in anticipation.

"Sorry, we're closed."

He hadn't thought that such a simple sound as a drearily attempted send-off would ignite his brain and send his stomach plummeting anxiously.

"We?" Mario squeezed the word out in partial disbelief, "Don't you mean I?"

There was a pause. For a fraction of a second, Mario thought that he wasn't talking to anyone. Maybe Luigi had already ascended upstairs and gotten back to his bookkeeping or whatever he was doing.

He was wrong. The door swung open and a figure leaned out, dressed in a white (albeit stained with black spots of grease) tennis shirt and a pair of old green corduroys. His black hair was swept out of his face presumably by sweat. There were sleepless circles drawn about his eyes and his eyebrows were furrowed. The air about him was of a man with little time to spare, but of no effort to make such a point apparent. Mario noticed that his brother had grown facial hair and styled in such a way that reminded him of how he had once had his: a wide mustache cut straight across the bottom and a triangular beard that reached just past the chin. It was entirely short and evenly kempt. He appeared to have put a great deal of time into making himself look presentable each day. The same could not be said for Mario, who must have looked physically defeated.

Luigi looked down at his brother (as he stood at least half a foot above him), slightly taken aback at the sight. Nevertheless, he let the stout man into the premises without question.

The main level, Mario observed, was much like he remembered it. The side walls held framed certification documents, and to the far left corner was the door that led upstairs. Straight in front was a wooden counter – behind which stood a rather large corkboard plastered with sticky notes and index cards. Somewhere on that board was Pauline's number. Mario's stomach twisted at the thought.

Yes, it was very much the same. In fact, the only really new thing that Mario could spot was a rather large chunk that had been violently taken out of the counter near the side opening on the left.

Mario turned to face Luigi, attempting clumsily to make eye contact. "You're probably wondering why I'm here…"

"No, I know exactly why you're here."

Mario, suddenly met with puzzlement, looked directly at his brother. "Well," he said, "Do I have it, then?"

Now it was Luigi's turn to become confused. He asked, "Have what, exactly?"

"A… oh, never mind. What were you thinking?"

"I thought Stanley sent you to bring me my money."

"What money?" Mario demanded. He'd been rooming with his old pal Stanley for the past year or so. Initially he was a bit hesitant, Stanley being an exterminator and all, of what kinds of horrible critters might be lurking around the place – but a place to sleep was a place to sleep.

"I uh… put money on the Mets; seven to two last month against the Cubs. He owes me like sixty bucks."

"Oh," Mario croaked. Something seemed a little off. How was it that they had parted ways on such nasty terms, but could still hold a civil conversation like it never happened? The way he had always envisioned it, Mario would be pitted as the victim of Luigi's pent-up frustration. How was it not so?

"When did you see him?" Mario continued. "I don't remember him saying anything about running into you."

"We've had these bets going since high school. I see him in the subway station basically every Saturday, so I figured… why not?" Luigi shrugged. "Why? He never mentioned it to you before?"

Mario frowned, "No."

That's when the uncomfortable silence came. Both brothers looked about ready to speak, but neither could seem to string their words together.

"So…" Mario mumbled, wandering behind the front counter. "Here we are, the brothers Mario, reunited once more."

He wasn't immediately given a reply, but he still waited on it. He wasn't sure if Luigi even really wanted him there or had just fallen back into the trap of being far too courteous again.

"Look, bro," Luigi said, striding over to the counter's side, "I said some real bad things and I shouldn'ta kicked you out, y'know? But I spent so long trying to get you to understand that what happened with Pauline, and however it was affecting you, was doing way too much wrong for the business."

"You took down her number," muttered Mario, scanning the corkboard. He saw plenty of meaningless words scribbled on meaningless papers, but that one spot on the right side where a certain important little red note once sat was now filled by a very plain looking slip. It had the name "Tony" scrawled on it in Luigi's handwriting, followed by a string of digits that Mario had no intention on remembering.

"Well I mean no offense, Mario," Luigi said frankly, "but I don't think she's got use for it anymore."

Mario desperately wanted to snap an angry retort, but clenched his teeth shut when he remembered what he came all the way there for.

He slowly shuffled towards his brother, ready to ask what he had been meaning to ask. Regrettably, he immediately distracted himself by pretending to just now notice the great gouge in the side of the counter.

"What did that?" he asked, pointing to it.

"Oh, Tony busted that open when he wasn't watching where he was going." Luigi then amended his sentence at the oblivious expression on Mario's face, "Some kid who was apprenticing a while back. I told him to go work for someone else since he couldn't handle all these responsibilities."

Something about the way he said it made Mario felt as if that last sentence wasn't entirely intended to describe this Tony character.

"So I was meaning to ask… or, uh… what I meant to say was…" Never before had Mario found it so difficult to construct a single sentence. "I uh…"

Luigi gazed at him. Perhaps it was a glare. He still seemed impatient.

"I was wondering if I could get a job here."

There. He had forced it out of himself. Like the doorbell earlier, he immediately felt the sensation of regret drop like lead in his abdomen.

"I… I don't know, bro," Luigi said, shrugging his shoulders.

Mario let out a sigh of partial disappointment, partial relief. He was glad there wasn't any kind of outburst, but couldn't help feel a little disillusioned. Their conversation had been going so well. What was to happen now?

"…but I guess I can give you another chance."

Mario's eyes lit up, and he tried his hardest to suppress his delight. It was the first step on the road to fixing things. Now maybe he might settle back into the swing of things. Maybe, finally, his world would get back to normal.

"And," Luigi continued, "I suppose you'd need some place to stay. Morning commute here from Stanley's place is awful."

Mario nodded ecstatically.

"You can't have your room back, though. Not right away, anyways. Sorry about that. I went and made an office out of it."

"Thought so…" Mario said.

"It's not that bad," Luigi remarked, "You can sleep on my new couch, and I've got extra blankets around somewhere."

"Yeah, that would be great."

It would seem as if everything were readjusting itself. Pieces were sliding back into their proper places. Mario followed Luigi's lead upstairs and around the narrow corner to the living room. It still had that definitive fifties finish to it, with the exception of a shiny new red leather sofa sitting opposite an old color TV set that illuminated the area with a bluish glow.

Luigi disappeared around the corner next to the kitchen and Mario sat down on the edge of the couch. He noticed the floor's surface was scraped where the legs of the sofa stood. It was then that he realized that the chunk taken out of the counter downstairs must have come out when this thing was being carried into the building.

He turned his attention to the television where two neon puppets with big googly eyes were babbling and slapping each other stupidly. Luigi likely wasn't watching it prior to his intrusion, so Mario leaned forward and cranked the dial clockwise until he settled on music videos. A black haired vocalist sang some medium paced ballad from a white room while bright flags rippled past the camera in between dissolve effects showcasing the other band members. It wasn't much, but it was distracting enough for Mario to take his mind away from the events of the night.

Luigi came back with a heap of blankets and throw pillows in his arms. He tossed them onto the couch beside Mario and slipped back into his bedroom after hastily muttering, "Good night."

Mario returned the gesture and spent a few minutes reorganizing the pillows and blankets on the couch. By now, the song on the TV had ended and it had switched over to some annoying vacations commercial with a happy little jingle. Deciding it was his cue to go to bed, he reached out and turned the power off, casting him in complete darkness.

He lay there, staring at where the ceiling would be if he could see it. It was one of those moments when he really couldn't express his surprise as to where he was and what he was doing. 'Finally home' was a phrase that rang in his head. He believed it.

Luigi cared too much. That was most definitely the problem. Mario was thankful for it, though. If he hadn't been, he'd likely still be at Stanley's place listening to the guy recount the time he had to extract a snapping turtle from a gas station bathroom. Nobody was ever sure how it got there, but Stanley was sure he almost lost a finger that day. That was a story that got old really fast.

However, the story that never became tiresome to Mario was one of his own experiences. It was certainly not his fondest memory, but it crept its way back into his head after the night's happenings.

He recalled him and Luigi being eleven at the time. Papa had taken them out on a camping trip in Hudson Valley for a week. As he remembered, it was possibly the worst holiday he had ever been on. It was also the last. Mama didn't trust him out in the woods anymore and scolded Papa a good measure for not keeping an eye on him. The brothers had both gone out on a little bit of an adventure after Papa fell asleep in his lawn chair. Mario was surprised that he hadn't managed to get them lost given his own deficient sense of direction. Instead, he remembered doing something a whole other level of stupid.

There was a vivid image in his head of a large patch of mushrooms they had come across. Mama used to use mushrooms in her signature spaghetti, so mushrooms should have been good to eat, right? Mario chuckled to himself at his immature lapse in logic from all those years ago. It still pestered him as one of his most embarrassing moments.

Predictably, he wound up sick and puking behind some tree. Then Luigi, with an astounding burst of strength, had lifted his chubby twin brother in one arm and marched him back to the campsite – all the while telling him off for eating the wild fungus. For moments, eleven year old Mario seriously thought he was at death's door. He recalled Luigi's voice fading in through his haze of sickness, reminding him to "stay positive."

Of course, Papa had a fit and sped them all back to the city immediately to take Mario to the hospital. He reminded himself to thank Luigi for practically saving his life every subsequent time the topic was brought up, but he couldn't ever recall Papa expressing gratitude towards his son… what was he talking about? Of course Papa must have done so at some point! Likely, he wasn't in the same room at the time.

Mario sighed. He turned over on the couch, now facing its back cushion. It was comfortable, but not as comfy as the old one had been. That couch had seen some days… it was probably also the reason that it got eventually thrown out or donated to some place. Mario liked to think donation. Charity was very Luigi.

At some moment following that thought, the haze of sleep must have overcome him. He didn't dream, and if he did, he couldn't remember. It was just the best sleep he had gotten for two years.

That's seven hundred and thirty days…

…over seventeen thousand hours…

And he would have slept through them all if he had known that when he woke up, he would blissfully be on speaking terms with his brother once more.


	3. III: A Visit With Vacancy

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much for all of the feedback so far. In terms of a few things that were raised in the reviews: there are (and will be) a few invented background characters that don't have much to do with the plot. Stanley, however, isn't actually an original character. He's based off of Stan the Bugman from Donkey Kong 3 (the arcade game, that is).

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE:**

**A VISIT WITH VACANCY**

The chilly September morning crept upon the city. Through the grey sky, the sun's rays pushed past and cast a small sliver of light onto the floor of Luigi's flat. Gradually as the sun lifted, unseen from beyond the vast blankets of clouds, the sliver traced its way up the side of the brand new leather couch. The instant it slipped over Mario's eyelids, he awakened. He wasn't well rested in any way. He had gotten there quite late during the night and, glancing at the clock plastered on the wall above the television, it was only six in the morning. Thinking back, he couldn't remember the last time he had woken up at such an early hour.

For at least twenty minutes he tried getting back to sleep to no avail. Turning and burying his face in the couch cushions helped none, but instead began to suffocate him through the thick material. Begrudgingly, he concluded that there was no way he was going to fall asleep. He was awake. What was done was done. It could not be reversed.

Going to the washroom, he took a quick shower. Immediately following, he swung open the medicine cabinet and quickly found himself shaving cream and a razor both neatly laid out on the middle shelf. Closing it and shuffling back to the sink, he saw his haggard reflection staring back at him in the mirror. His face was shrouded in something well past five o' clock shadow and his eyes were accentuated with a tired redness. It was a wonder how Luigi even recognized him the night previous.

Mario went at it, carefully removing the stubble from his face, all the while insisting to himself that if he wanted to be professional he had to _look_ professional. How else had Luigi done it?

Just then, there was a knock at the bathroom door. Mario stopped, letting the razor hover less than an inch from his face. With his free hand, he swung the door open.

"Just wondering how long you'd be in here," Luigi said.

"Give me like five minutes," Mario replied, trying not to get any shaving cream in his mouth as he did. After a few moments of Mario removing what remained of his sideburns, Luigi spoke up again.

"You should keep the mustache."

Mario turned to him. "You think so?" he asked, glancing back between the mirror and his brother.

"Just think: we'll match."

"Yeah, I guess we will."

"Hey... uh, you still wear that thing?" Luigi motioned to Mario's neck where a little golden chain hung. At its middle was a star-shaped jewel.

"Yeah, it reminds me of Mama, y'know? Why'd you ask?"

Luigi motioned to his own neck. There, an identical piece of jewelery was strung. "I still got mine," he said, smiling, before striding away to leave his brother to finish up in the washroom.

Mario took a second to wash the remaining strip of shaving cream away from his upper lip and spent a minute or two trying to straighten out the bottom. It was infuriating. How on Earth did he ever do this on a regular basis before? He supposed it was just something he'd have to get used to again.

When he popped back out into the living room, Luigi stepped into the washroom for a period of time. Upon exiting, he told Mario that he had around half a dozen appointments scheduled for the next few days, and that they'd better get going as soon as possible.

"It seems you've been getting stuff done," Mario commented. Two years ago, they'd be happy to even get three or four calls per week – and they'd usually fill them within that same day. There wasn't any of this scheduling stuff going on. Mario didn't like it that way. It was too much planning. Too many numbers. What ever happened to spontaneity?

"Yeah… here," Luigi's voice came from the hallway, tossing him his old crimson tennis shirt and a pair of worn blue jeans from around the corner. "There's your uniform."

Mario hurriedly threw them on and was met with great disappointment that they no longer fit him. In fact, they were several sizes too large. The waistband drooped around his midsection lamely. Maybe the weight loss would have been encouraging if he was not currently being reminded that he was, at one point, quite fat.

"You might need these too," Luigi added as if sensing Mario's exact thought processes. A pair of broad navy blue suspenders with bronze buckles came hurtling towards him. Narrowly avoiding being hit, Mario quickly attached them, hitching his loose-fitting pants back up to their proper position.

Luigi stepped out of the hallway wearing a familiar pair of blue overalls and twirling two hats in his hand. One was a brand new green trucker's hat and the other was Mario's old red fisherman's cap. He handed the latter to Mario who studied its surface. Embroidered on the very front was a large logo: a stylized letter M, and underneath it read "Mario Bros. Plumbing Co." in tiny print. Glimpsing Luigi's hat, he noticed the logo was different. Luigi's hat bore a patch reading "Luigi's Plumbing Services" on it with the letter L sticking out larger than the others.

"I had to change it after you left," Luigi said, detecting Mario's confusion. "I still haven't gotten the new shop sign, though. I haven't had any time to put in the order."

"Then I guess there's still time to change it back?" Mario said hopefully.

Luigi just chuckled and fastened a tool belt around his waist. Mario did the same with his own set of gear. They hopped downstairs and Luigi flipped through a beaten schedule notebook.

"Looks like we're heading back out to Manhattan," he announced. "West 153rd Street. That ain't too far from Mama and Papa's old church."

"Great," Mario groaned. Despite growing up in the general area, Washington Heights was not his favorite place in the world. In fact, it was incredibly far down on that list at the moment. Recently, the whole place had turned into something of an embarrassing criminal mess. On any other day it would probably have been something fun to do – going into a potentially dangerous area. But for today, his first day back on the job, Mario just wanted a normal day where things moved as smoothly and easily as possible.

"Well I'm sorry to say you've got no choice in the matter," Luigi said decisively, "I've got this Mr. Dillinger scheduled for today, and he's been in this slot since the beginning of August. I can't switch things around, bro."

"I didn't say that. I'm just not looking forward to it."

Luigi patted him on the shoulder as he swung the front door open. "Stay positive," he said to his brother before promptly striding out towards the van.

Manhattan traffic. Just their luck. Irritable people all lined up in hulking steel vehicles, more anxiously anticipating the weekend than the day of work ahead of them. It was Friday the 13th. Of course.

This was the part of the job that Mario didn't miss. It had been so much easier getting from place to place via the subway. Sure, it was crowded with all sorts of creepy, smelly and pushy people, but it got places faster than a bazillion cars jam-packed along the borough's tiny streets.

Turning on the radio did no help to quench his boredom with barely anything but commercials being broadcast, aside from one station that seemed to be playing that same tune he had heard on the television during the night. He left the dial on that for a while until the song ended, at which point he promptly shut the whole thing off and did not turn it back on again.

The drive became deathly quiet. Neither of them spoke another word until they arrived at their destination: a shabby yellowed apartment block with faded red trim and little arched windows. Mario could have sworn he remembered a playground in the lot where it stood. The building didn't look all too old, but instead rugged over sudden heavy use, which supported his theory. Perhaps immediate abandonment as well. Nobody answered when the entrance doorbell was first rung.

Through the window, they could see a security guard by the front desk who looked rather bored. Following their attempts at buzzing this Dillinger man's main office (as it had been indicated to Luigi), the security guard got up and opened up the front door lazily.

"Landlord's not in," the man droned. From beneath his bushy eyebrows he peered at the both of them with tiny brown eyes.

"Oh, well... we're here to fix the leak," Luigi said.

The guard looked a tad confused. "Dillinger said there'd only be one guy. What's his deal?" He pointed at Mario with a thick finger.

"New recruit," Luigi laughed sheepishly. The security guard wasn't too amused. He stepped out of the way and let them into the lobby, keeping an eye on the both of them.

The guard led them to the left and past various garbage bins that, being over half-filled with water, were otherwise empty. There were steady drips working their way through the ceiling. As they ascended the staircase, they were forced to dodge more pails and containers that collected the leakage, as well as sodden towels that had been placed in tiny makeshift blockades in attempts to contain the flood.

"This looks bad," Luigi said, mostly to himself. "If you knew it was like this, why didn't you call anyone else?"

The guard chuckled. "Are you really selling yourself short on this?"

"Not trying to. I'm just wondering why the landlord didn't get someone who could get in and fix it sooner."

"Look buddy, I'm here everyday from five 'til eleven. Anything you've got to say is something I've thought about from one time or another over the past month. The truth is, Mr. Dillinger doesn't come around here much. He's got at least three other buildings on the island to manage and a leak way out here is the least of his problems."

They turned down a corridor and the guard pointed them towards a room numbered 224. Water puddled around their shoes, running steadily from beneath 224's door. It soaked right through their socks. It was dark.

The guard continued, "On top of all that, it didn't get this bad until this past week. The place was a little damp since August, but around the seventh of this month, it was like a whole dam broke loose. The couple in 124 downstairs noticed it first. Their bathroom light started barfing up water. Look how dirty it is, so you can imagine they thought some toilet pipe ruptured up here... but as you can see," he pushed the door open for them to observe the oddly vacant room, "this one's empty. Been like that for at least two years."

The brothers entered the apartment as the guard left them to their work. The place should have been quite modern looking, but such cleanliness was ruined by the filthy waters that streamed from the bathroom. They trudged over, Mario now realizing the waters did not smell of sewage, but heavily of soil.

And the source of it all: a bathtub, overflowing with the steady flow. In here, it smelled like mold. Black spots lined the linoleum in areas where the water could not wash it away, yet not in places the liquid's splashes could not reach.

"Well then..." Mario sighed, "I guess we ought to get to work."

"Right, let's see what's going on here..." Luigi muttered as he knelt next to the tub and observed the faucet. "The tap's not leaking, that's for sure." He stuck his hands into the chilly murky waters and felt around the front end, adding, "and it's not the overflow either." Reaching further to find the bottom, he withdrew his hands, perplexed, "I can't find the drain."

Mario, slightly disinterested, had found much more entertainment in examining a peculiar growth of fungus that sprouted from the place where the sink's counter and the back-splash joined.

"Mario, get over here."

He poked the mushroom idly with the end of his wrench and was taken aback when the fungus sprang back into position, releasing a thick beige cloud of spores into the air. Quickly, Mario covered his face with his shirt to prevent inhaling them. He turned right around and shuffled over to his brother who was just about to call his name out again.

"What?" Mario asked.

"Didn't you hear me? I said get over here. I can't find the drain. Help me with this, will you?"

Mario pushed his brother to the side to try for himself but met the same results. He pawed at the inner lining of the bathtub, trying to find its bottom, but couldn't do it. The water was too cold. It was almost painful to touch. He gave up after a few minutes, shaking his hands dry and warming them between opposite arms.

Luigi, trying out another idea, took a mallet out of his belt and flipped it the other way. Using its handle, he prodded in the general direction of where the drain was supposed to be but found absolutely nothing.

"How deep is this thing?" he questioned. Mario didn't say anything. Ignoring his lack of answer, Luigi thrust his arm further into the tub and found nothing still. Half his mind told him to give up, but there was another thing. He didn't know if it was determination or something far beyond it.

Still, he leaned further into the tub. Perched precariously on its slippery edge, his movements were sending muddy water cascading everywhere. They were soaked in it now, clasped by a freezing grip. Maybe he should give up as well.

Then suddenly, as Luigi went to retract his arm, he found himself incapable. It was as if a great suction had caught hold on him. He wiggled about slightly and, with disappointment, accidentally released his mallet. There was no sound – no resounding thud that indicated a bottom to the bathtub.

"Ah... I'm stuck," he squawked. Again, Mario didn't seem to hear him, so he repeated himself even louder. "I'm stuck, Mario! Help me."

His brother approached from the side. Confusedly, Mario asked, "What are you talking about? What're you stuck _in_?"

"The bathtub, dammit! What does it look like? Now help me already!"

Mario grappled Luigi's arm. The icy water stung them. He pulled, but it was no use. He knew that he didn't have much in terms of strength, but there couldn't have been anything inside of that bathtub that would have done such a thing.

Then Luigi slipped. He tumbled forward a little – just enough to submerge his head. He kicked, but couldn't gain leverage to escape. He strained. Wrestling against whatever bound him down and pulled him in. Mario panicked and leaped back over to him, trying to at least get his brother's head out of the water. Nothing worked. Another one of Luigi's blind kicks hit him straight in the side.

Painfully, he tumbled over and knocked his head on the slimy floor. Stars flashed over his eyes. His head felt dull. Temporarily his vision faded in and out of blue and orange hues before abruptly reverting back to normal. Out of his peripheral, he saw Luigi fall – tumbling right into the bathtub with a loud splash.

Blasted with adrenaline, Mario shot up and jumped towards the spot where his brother had been mere seconds ago. He stirred the tub's waters with his hands, grasping at nothing for any sign of Luigi. There wasn't any.

And then, he too found himself stuck! But he had no desire to abandon the task. Luigi was in there somewhere. He had to be... but Mario found himself being wrenched further into the tub. It extended quite far. It went straight past the floor itself! It was impossible. There was no way...

A calling came. It was wordless, yet it attracted some part of his mind – some part he was unaware of. Its grip pulled him in. Before he knew it, he plunged beneath the frigid thickened waters. Air escaped him. Suffocating, he squirmed. Dirt swirled around him.

Mario must have fallen many yards when the dirt began to clear. Below him, he saw it: a murky white glow that flickered as the waters rippled past it. The light had no clear source. It was just there.

He felt himself moving faster, being thrown downwards at an increasing acceleration. He couldn't fight it if he wanted to. All he needed was air – and fast.

The light surrounded him. It consumed him. His sight took a dive, fading to that same fading starry hue of orange.

Images arrived. They were so distorted and so vague, he might have thought in any completely sane moment, that they were merely projected in his mind's eye. But no, they were quite real. They were there, nearly close enough to reach out and touch.

There they were: kids roaming about the forest. Their father was back at the camp. Luigi's childish voice said something unintelligible. They sounded like words, but had no structure. Sound blurred. Images slid into each other. Not long now, Mario figured... not long until he got sick... not long until he was consumed by uncertainty.

Then a face – Pauline's. There she was, still in that animal training outfit of hers. The chest pocket had a little tag reading "Central Park Zoo". Their eyes met. He was asking her out for coffee. She smiled... a brute shadow loomed from behind. "Gorilla"... that was the word that came to mind. That was the word he wanted to forget...

She faded. He wanted to chase her, but before he could reach her, she was replaced by another image. It was one he did not recognize immediately, but one he knew in his gut that he had seen it before. A sudden pang of recollection shot through him, momentarily revitalizing. He felt as if he was trying to say a word that had been long lost on him in dialogue. Struggling with himself, he glared in frustration at the thing before him.

It was a boy.

...he had the most peculiarly shaped hat...


	4. IV: The Ancient Place

**CHAPTER FOUR:**

**THE ANCIENT PLACE**

A whistling snaked through the old house. The floorboards breathed it, wheezing musky air into the single-roomed construct. It was a round room, inhabited by an assortment of handcrafted furniture, bookshelves and a creaky wood stove. Sunlight filtered in through the slats in the uneven dome-shaped roof, highlighting tiny particles of dust as though they were miniscule scratches hanging in the middle of nothingness.

The whistling did belong to an old man who presently limped over to the side of the circular rug in his room. There lay two men. One of them was stirring now – the one dressed in red – and it was of the utmost importance that he did stir. The day was all very confusing to him and he desired to sort the whole matter out as soon as possible.

The red one opened his eyes wearily while the green one remained unmoving. The old man seated himself in his rocking chair beside them, keeping an eye on the man in red who was just now sitting up.

"Wh… wha…?" he grumbled blearily, scrubbing vigorously at his eyes with his palms. He glanced over and looked directly at the old man. Alertness suddenly rushed over him. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Ah…" the old man said warily, "I should tell you that you had best not strain yourself. It was quite a trip you had there."

The man in red scoffed. "Trip? I damn well fell in, didn't I?" he still attempted to stand up and found his legs failed under his own weight. He collapsed back down in an aggravated manner, adding "Of my own free will, too."

"No, no, no…" the old man muttered, leaning forwards in his seat to see the man in red a bit clearer. "You traveled here a rather large distance, perhaps five hundred miles from where you were first spotted two days ago."

The man in red's eyebrows knitted in confusion. Seeing this, the old man continued to elaborate.

"I should explain," he said, clearing his throat, "that just last night you were dropped off here by a fairly intelligent raven fellow who, might I say, has a knack for valuables. He saw those necklaces of yours and couldn't possibly ignore them. Safe to say, when he saw the mark of the King upon you, he brought the both of you here straight away."

The man in red reached up towards the base of his neck and found what he sought was missing from its position. "Hey!" he exclaimed, "What's the big idea? Where'd you put it?"

"Don't worry yourself," the old man said, reaching over to the table beside him and picking up the two golden chains. "I have them here."

"Why'd you take them off?"

"If you must know, they were tangled and choking the both of you. I was hoping to get them looked at by someone with a more professional eye than mine. Really, I must know if they are the real thing."

"That doesn't matter!" the man in red snapped as he went to snatch the necklaces back. The old man was too quick, jerking them out of his reach before he could close his fingers around them. The man in red was not amused. "Who do you think you are, anyways?"

"My name is Arewo," he replied. "I would be interested in learning yours. What do they call those who bear the mark of the Mushroom King – that mark which has not been seen in nearly thirty years?"

"Mushroom King? What are you…?" the man in red began, but his voice trailed off into obscurity. He felt as if he had been rudely awakened from a restful slumber at too early an hour. His eyelids kept closing when he wasn't paying attention, and only when his head jerked back in sudden attentiveness did he realize that he was in the midst of returning to that peaceful sleep.

"Give me your names," Arewo said, dangling the chains in front of his face, "and I shall give you these."

"Mario," the man said gruffly. He pointed over his shoulder at the man in green who was still out cold on the rug. "That's my brother, Luigi."

Arewo handed the necklaces back to Mario, who immediately put them both into his pocket. He glared at Arewo, not particularly caring that the man had looked after them this whole time while they were unconscious… and who was this "raven fellow" that he referred to? Unimportant, he decided. The man was senile. He tried to remember what had happened, but not much came to him. There had been a lot of water. Perhaps they floated down some river. Where were they right now? In some dingy cabin out in the Hudson Valley? He hoped not.

For what felt like hours, Mario sat there on the rug. Luigi eventually woke up and Mario had to explain everything he knew so far. Arewo wasn't being any help. He said nothing, but instead had moved his rocking chair over to the window, watching about anxiously as though awaiting a dreaded visitor.

Arewo had given them a clumsy ceramic pitcher filled with water. Both of them drank the entire thing, completely parched. He even gave them a little loaf of bread which they devoured in mere seconds. After that, there was nothing. Everything was stuck at a dull awkward silence.

"Well," Mario announced suddenly as both he and Luigi stood up. Arewo spun around. Mario continued, "If you don't mind, I think we're going to be finding our way back home now."

Arewo shook his head in confusion. "Where is it that you expect to go? As I said, you were found out in the South-West Sea, five hundred miles out from here. From there, you were taken here, all the way back in the First Realm. I haven't the faintest clue how you would get yourselves home in a state like this."

Mario blinked a blank stare at him. Luigi, still groggy, raised an eyebrow. He leaned against his brother to support his tired weight.

"I would suggest," Arewo said slowly, "that you go talk to the Exile. When you see him, show him your necklaces and he will understand. By about this hour, you will find him in the castle just up the hill…" he paused, and then added, "and do be careful. There are some around here who won't take kindly to those who still have your bravery to show devotion to the King."

The words came spilling out of the old man's mouth so fast that Mario had little time to comprehend their meaning. He wanted to ask something, but couldn't find the precise words. Luigi, though still in a stunned state, managed to squeeze out what Mario had been meaning to say.

"Will he be able to get us back?" he asked, straining against Mario's shoulder in exhaustion and bewilderment.

Arewo pondered this. The sight was far from encouraging. "That entirely depends on where you come from, which, I am sure is no business of mine," he said. "Now if you are to be off, then on with you! He is not waiting on a visit."

As he ushered them out of the cottage, Mario had to ask, "How will we know who the Exile is? We don't even know what he looks like."

"Oh, he won't be hard to spot," Arewo said, swinging open the door, "Keep your eye out and you'll see him there – the boy in the mushroom hat!"

With that, the old man shut the door. Mario could hear a latch clicking from within. His heart leapt at those final words. He didn't know why… it was like a distant memory trying to reconnect itself.

Where had he heard that before? Where had that image come from? He could see the face right now: some child with wide blue eyes and a small flat nose. Behind a mop of thinned blond hair, a broad rounded cap was perched on his head. It almost made him look like a Chinese farmer in a straw sun hat. He whispered something to Mario – words with no meaning. They were shapeless, nearly silent. It almost seemed like air through the trees. It was that thought that brought him back to the present.

He didn't need to turn around to realize that they were far from home. He could practically hear the sound of Luigi's jaw dropping at the sight which he was met with as he gradually turned around. No, they were definitely not anywhere remotely close to home. He tried to stop and consider how they could have managed to find themselves in such a place, but couldn't manage to process so much at once.

They stood in a sloping valley. Surrounding them were multiple ramshackle dome houses all packed together into blocks adjacent to cobblestone streets. They were homes and shops and other workplaces. Nearly all of them were closed up, some with boards patching up their entrances. In a few, beyond foggy glass, shadows moved past the glow of fire light. The whole town seemed to be a paranoid speck situated in the middle of nowhere. Dark fields stitched together with olive-colored grass stretched far beyond it on almost all of its sides.

Mario looked to his feet. From in between the cracked rocks they stood upon, little toadstools sprouted. Their puffy tops were laden with tiny dark freckles and their stems curved slightly at the middle. They were all kind of bent in towards each other like a little family huddling for warmth in the cold.

But it was not cold. No, as Mario noticed, it was quite warm. In fact, it was horribly humid. Short bursts of air pushed mist into their faces listlessly. The tiny patches of fungus at their feet wiggled in the wind.

Then, they both looked to the end of the main road. There they saw what Mario figured was their destination: a great hill upon which, through the dissipating morning mist, a sharp imposing shadow lay still. It was defined harshly against the grey skies, but gave no sense to its purpose. It was fallen, the ruins of a great fortress. As the brothers began to hike towards the hillside, they saw its features in greater detail. They found ivy tracing up the sides of its mottled stone, and that it had a stone bridge crossing a moat in front which had thankfully not yet collapsed.

The brothers began to ascend the hill, not speaking a word to each other. Whether or not that was out of shock or out of fatigue was unclear. Every so often, Mario peered up at the wilted structure atop the slope. The monolithic thing drove upwards above the town pitifully. It had no use. It was a thing of times past, and times long remembered – times long cherished.

About halfway up the hill there was a crumbled staircase set into the soil. They settled on top of it, pausing to catch their breath. As Mario gazed down, he looked back on the beaten trail they had been following up there. Now that he saw it from this angle, he could see it was clearly the place where the remainder of the staircase once lay. Where it was now was not clear. Past the halfway point, there were no remnants of stone or mortar leading down to the main road where it had obviously once connected. From the look of the trail, the steps had been missing for a long time.

He considered what Arewo had told them. He chose to believe it, purely out of lack of effort to refuse. It was all very dreamlike; one had to accept that reality without question, for in sleep, there is no reason to.

Sleeping sounded nice. If it weren't for the stifling humid air, he could have just fallen back on the step he sat on and let himself drift into slumber for the rest of time. How long had they been out again? Arewo said they were spotted two days ago, so it must have been at least forty-eight hours… that would put today as…

"Happy birthday," Mario said to Luigi, patting him on the back. "The big three-zero for the both of us."

"Some birthday present," Luigi groaned. "Out in the middle of nowhere with no way back to Brooklyn. We've barely eaten, barely drank anything, and now we have to find this guy who _might_ help us find a way home."

"What was that you used to say? Stay positive?"

"How can we stay positive about this?" Luigi asked, casting his arm outward in reference to the tiny rickety town below them and the dilapidated castle behind. "Where the hell are we, Mario?"

"First Realm."

"What?"

Mario turned to Luigi, whose face was washed over with a look of incredulity. "First Realm," he repeated. "That's what the old guy told me. Don't ask me what it means, but it's all we have to go on."

Luigi still looked just about as confused as Mario was. "What'd he want with our necklaces, anyways?" he asked.

Mario opened his mouth to regurgitate the old man's babblings about a King and a mark or something or other, but decided against it. "I don't know," is what he finally managed to say.

"Could I have mine back?"

Mario fisted inside of his pockets, trying to remember where he had lodged the two pendants. Each place he looked, his hands came out empty. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Dammit! The old creep must have stolen them back!"

"Well what are we going to do now?" Luigi demanded worriedly.

Mario sighed, "We can always get them back after we talk to this other guy."

"I guess. But we're supposed to show them to him."

"Then we'll show him after," Mario said finally, "There's no way I'm gonna be climbing back up here again, so let's just get this done with, alright?"

"Fine," Luigi replied.

Mario stood back up, grabbing his brother's shoulder in motion for him to do the same. "Come on," he said, trekking further up the steps.

The climb to the top was much easier with a sturdy staircase beneath them instead of the soft earth. Mario saw that between the steps, the mushrooms from back in the village were growing. They seemed to be following them, didn't they? As he looked ahead, he saw that they were quite literally following them! As they climbed, they shot up from the thin lines in the stone. He shook his head in disbelief. He was far too tired for any of this right now.

At long last, the brothers arrived at the very top step. Ahead was a short pathway that struck between two pillars and led up to the misty wreck. Between them, remnants of a strong iron gate could be seen. When they passed it, Mario noticed how it seemed to have been melted at its broken ends. Other portions of it lay halfway buried in the tall sweeping grass and wild bulrushes that had grown over the courtyard.

The short path ended with the bridge. Below, the deep moat churned with muddy water. Little bits of tarnished metal could be seen distantly, jammed in the banks on the side. Perhaps there were bones there too amongst the rocks and dirt. It being that far down, it was a little difficult to tell.

Beyond the bridge, Mario supposed there should have been an entranceway: some kind of grand double doors made of oak and furnished in brass. It was not so. The entire front wall was cleaved in two with much of one half composed of ground pebbles that were lying here and there amongst larger chunks. The remaining half of the front wall retained a partial bit of the elaborate doorframe, embossed with designs of tiny spiraling vines that were tipped in star-shaped flowers.

They stepped past the threshold. Mario startled when he noticed the crunch beneath his boots. There was glass lying about under the shade of the tall grass. He angled his head. It was the remnants of some giant stained glass window.

"Watch out there," Mario warned. Carefully, the brothers stepped around it and into the entrance chamber.

Half the ceiling was missing around the centre portion. Directly beneath it, Mario thought he was viewing a circular wall. It was only moments later as they approached it that he recognized it as a complete tower, dropped from the gap in the roof above and lodged into the floor. It had taken with it a large separating wall between the entrance chamber and the throne room ahead. The light from outside looked in, basking it in a faint, hazy glow. Moss and toadstools had appropriated it for their use, growing around it and climbing onto its scarlet tiled roof.

It felt much like entering a mausoleum. The whole sepulchral construct seemed laced with a faint misery of long ago. What was it that happened here? It was a strange feeling, Mario noted. He was beginning to lose interest in his own dilemma, and instead finding meaning in this ancient place.

Then Mario cocked his head at a sound. He motioned for Luigi to stay quiet. They both heard it now. It was a melody. It echoed everywhere. The tone was haunting. It was not being sung loudly, but rather personally as if it were a prayer.

They edged around the fallen spire, hoping to catch sight of the source of the noise. And there, in the next room, they saw him.

He was kneeling before an empty pedestal. The throne was gone. Nothing else remained in the entire hall. There were no treasures or torches or paintings. Every stained glass window had been smashed and their pieces lay scattered around the side walls. They warily stepped past the mess. The boy in the mushroom hat did not hear them approach.

He sang. It was slow, at a steady funeral pace. The Mario brothers did not dare to make a sound to interrupt. They did not want to do anything to offend him.

"…on third strike from morning hour

A light beyond strikes up the tower

Have no silence, do not cower

From the throbbing numb of whips

.

Though you're brought before their toes

And whimper under gnashing blows

From the dark, the orange glows

With coming drums of fiery ships

.

The storming gate is lighting play

No more features remain to stay

The Kingdom will have gone away

When day has blotted out the night

.

Yet strings will fall on either end

Cut and thrown before they mend

And withering, so quick they bend

As ashes come to quell the fight

.

The silent notes are loudest heard

You strengthen us with your word

Forgotten though, to timeworn lore

Soundless you speak forevermore."

When he was finished, he stood up. The brothers still kept themselves motionless. There were so many questions racing through their heads. At this point, Mario could almost care less about getting back home. What was the meaning of it all? He wanted to know. He had to know…

The Exile slowly turned around to face them, and when he did, his eyes widened considerably. He made no motion to ask who they were or what they were doing or why they had interrupted such a personal moment. Instead, he immediately collapsed to his knees, eyes watering in gratitude.

"Oh thank you!" he cried, "You've come back. After all this time, you've finally come back!"


	5. V: The Secret Slide

**Author's Note: **Sorry it took nearly two months for this to get updated. Hopefully this gets the plot moving in the direction it needs to. I have a great plan for this story and I really think you guys will dig it.

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE:**

**THE SECRET SLIDE**

Toad. That was his name. He appeared different from what Mario had envisioned, with his blue vest caked with dirt and his trousers shredded at the ankles. He was also older, but not beyond recognition. The boy had seated himself on the edge of the throne's vacant pedestal with the brothers sitting next to him. Had he stood up, he would have been about half a head shorter than Mario. Traced across the boy's youthful face was a horribly weathered expression. Mario had a plaguing desire to ask him what he was doing in this place, and what it all meant. He did not need to communicate it. Toad knew, and he was willing to share.

Curiously, in the area beside the pedestal, tiny flows of mushrooms seemed to have congregated. They curved around in the region, where the tiles of the floor had been broken and the wild grass had broken through, forming a near-perfect circle. How had they done it? There must have been a way…

And then there was Toad. He wore the mushroom hat upon his head. What purpose did it have here – this ordinary life form? Perhaps it was a worshiped thing, and a question he should not bother pestering anyone over. Sacred things… holy things…

Then, Toad cleared his throat, getting both of their attentions. They looked over to him and watched him as he removed his cap and ran his fingers through his hair. The boy chewed his bottom lip.

"On this night, thirty years ago," he spoke, "the hordes of the Eighth Realm overran the village and marched up to the castle. A resistance had mere moments to materialize and meet the unprovoked attack before they reached the castle walls. Sadly, our defenses were useless against their weaponry; they had with them some kinds of horrible exploding machinery unlike anything seen before in these realms. We crumbled to their offense, quickly retreating further and further into the castle. From the moment they blasted the gate, we were condemned to ruin.

"There were seven brothers: the Mushroom Retainers. Those who were chosen generation after generation to be the keepers of the rare life-giving mushrooms, were assigned the duty to protect the king. As the defensive lines were broken by the oncoming assault, they ordered the King to retreat to the throne room…" he trailed off momentarily, gazing to the area to the right of the pedestal where he had clearly noticed the circle of mushrooms as well. "Six," he continued, "Six of them were slain on this exact spot and the King being taken with them."

A long silence followed. As skeptical as Mario wanted to be towards the story, he knew he had no other alternative. It was all very much. Toad's glance still lingered on the same place. It was only when he turned back to the brothers that Mario spoke.

"Is that where it happened?"

He pointed to the congregation in the cracked floor. Toad nodded. "That is where the King fell."

"Why are they doing that?"

"Assembling?" said Toad, looking back to the mushrooms that had gathered together. "Nobody's quite sure. They tend to do that from time to time when they feel the need to express themselves…"

Then, an abrupt shout came from outside.

"Oi! You!"

All three of them froze. It was a deep shout, violent and angry, and it sounded as if it had come from something fairly large.

"What're yeh doing up here? Get back to your station!" it growled.

Another voice came. It was similar, but sounded closer, calmer and quieter.

"You hear what they did? They found the last two. Some old croak had 'em, but he's not tellin' where he got 'em from."

"Never mind where he got them from!" the first voice snapped, it's tone switching abruptly to distress. "That's not important! It means they're here!"

"Leave it alone. It's a hoax" the third and deepest voice said, then adding, "Commander's orders."

"You got verification for that?" demanded the first.

"Yes."

"You got it on paper?"

"No."

"Go back to the old ones, then."

"He told me himself."

"Should've told me, shouldn't he?" the first snapped

"You got here just this morning," the third argued, "This was a fortnight past."

"As your superior, I charge you with your initial duty! They have returned. So, search the whole village. Scour every house, dig up every grave. Kill every man, woman and child who gets in your way. I don't care _what_ you do. Just find them and destroy them!"

"Yes, sir."

Toad's eyes burst open widely. He instantly grabbed Mario and Luigi by the sleeves and, with unexpected strength, whisked them off the pedestal to stand around the corner of a small doorway to the back of the throne room. They were in a darkened hall now, with the only source of light being the sparse thin windows cut into the stone facing outwards. The three of them were hidden in just enough shadow to avoid being noticed.

"What are you –" Luigi started, but was cut off as Toad reaching up and slapping a hand around the tall man's mouth.

Footsteps came, and then a yelp of pain.

"AUGH!"

"What?" the second voice snapped.

"Glass," the first voice groaned. "All over the ground."

"Oh, grow a spine, you blithering cretin!"

The first made some indistinguishable retort. Mario would have listed further, but Toad was yanking his sleeve urgently with Luigi already ahead of him.

They ducked past the windows and into another, much smaller chamber. As quietly as he could, Toad pushed the door closed, sealing them off from their unseen pursuers.

The room was octagonal and looked like it could have formed the base of a minor turret. It was completely empty aside from them, and lit by two wall-mounted torches that Toad must have ignited earlier. There were three stained glass windows on the angled walls opposite the door – the only ones so far that were wholly intact. Even though Mario was completely sure it was still daytime, no light entered through them. They must have been decorative fakes.

As he approached them, he saw that they all were of the same image: a blond woman, though in slightly different poses in each. They were incredibly detailed, and as he got closer to the one situated on the right-hand wall, Mario's stomach did a backflip. The woman looked horribly like...

"Pauline?"

Luigi's voice made him jump and violently spin around on the spot. His brother was standing only inches behind him, observing the same window. In a loud whisper, Mario instinctively blurted, "What!?"

Luigi raised his eyebrows defensively, appending, "I mean, she looks a helluva lot like her, doesn't she?"

Mario didn't answer. He turned back to the window. Yes… the straight nose, the wide blue eyes, the heart-shaped face, her small mouth… The resemblance was uncanny. It was as if he had cracked open an old album of photos he had never seen, now laying his eyes on her again for the first time.

Rudely, Toad bustled past the two brothers, breaking right between them and heading straight for the right-hand window.

"Do you mind telling us what the hell is going on?" Luigi hissed at the boy, irritated by the sudden intrusion.

Mario too was broken from his concentration and was immediately flushed with annoyance. Toad had clambered up onto the sill and was prying at the side of the woman's portrait.

Suddenly, the window swung open and Toad slipped down to the floor. Through the hole, nothing could be seen. Neither one of the brothers had any time to ponder where it went. Wordlessly and urgently, Toad thrust them forward into it.

The fall was short and fortunately, they landed on their feet. They were in some kind of pit. Maybe it was a corridor. It was far too dark to see, and after Toad had landed behind them, the portrait entranceway immediately closed. It was entirely dark. Mario could scarcely make out Toad, and couldn't see his brother at all.

Toad pulled something from the pocket of his vest and he bit into it. Mario could have sworn it was a flower. It looked like one. Whatever it was, it didn't matter. Toad swung his hand up and a blinding light shot forth.

Torches sprung to life, bringing into sight a short little hallway that dropped off into what appeared to be spiraling stairs at its end. Toad wasted no time in heading forward and the brothers hesitantly followed. It was infuriating that nothing was being explained to them whatsoever.

What had Toad just done to light those torches? Mario wondered if, perhaps, that flower had contained some kind of combustible fluid that supplemented another attached device – like a cigarette lighter or a flamethrower. It must have been – no matter how improbable based upon the low level of technological advancement this…_place_ seemed to possess.

They were met with shock when, upon reaching the end of the path, they saw that it did not merge with a staircase at all, but instead a _ramp_. The decline curved around and tunneled into ground. Only now did Toad waste no time in offering further detail.

"The secret slide," Toad said in a low tone, "It was built into this castle for this exact purpose."

"That purpose being…?" Mario glared at the boy.

"Escaping," Toad added with a bit of a smirk. "The Princess had a great use of it in avoiding His Majesty from time to time. She made me swear to keep it hidden from him since, as it would seem, it was a bit of a private thing kept within the female side of their family. I suppose I was the only exception…"

He paused for a second, staring off blankly into the twisting decline before them. Mario could have sworn he was probably reminiscing on whatever _good old days_ they had around here. Continuing, Toad said in a manner that was more to himself than to anyone else, "It should take us to the lower gardens, but I can't guarantee we'll be able to make it out there."

That statement alone threw Mario for an entirely different loop. Was he actually making a concerted effort to be so cryptic? He almost wanted to call the kid out on it, and given an eye-roll from Luigi, his brother desired much to do the same.

Then Toad abruptly gripped their shoulders, forcing them to look at him directly. "Hear this," his stern order amusingly clashing with the infantile pitch of his voice, "I don't know what may lie at the end of this route. You must be on your guard, and do everything I instruct you to do. Do you understand?"

Mario nodded fiercely. He would do anything – _anything_ to get some answers, however satisfying they would be. He supposed the best he could do to get to that conclusion was to merge with the flow of things. Toad clearly had much more of an idea of what was going on than either of them, so it only made sense to conform to his directions. Besides, there was still something awfully familiar about him…

Toad and Mario looked to Luigi, expectantly awaiting a sign of agreement, but were met with silence. His brow was knitted with unease, and he was idly fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve.

"I don't know, Mario," he mumbled, "I think we should just stop and think this out. I mean, how do we even know we can trust him?"

Toad's face flushed red. "What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"Nothing. He doesn't mean anything against you." Mario interjected quickly.

"What if I do?" Luigi fired back.

Mario froze. The last time he had heard Luigi use that tone was during that fateful argument two years ago that had landed him sweeping Stanley's floor for the following twenty-or-so months. It was terribly unlike Luigi to talk like that, and Mario could just as easily raised his voice even louder, but thought better of it. Spotting the place where his brother miraculously hadn't scrounged up a retort, Luigi continued.

"Maybe you can go ahead and make whatever decisions you like, but I have things to worry about. I've got a place and a steady job too. I can't just go running off on an adventure down a crazy secret passageway in some castle in the middle of absolutely nowhere, with nothing to trust but some kid! I just want to go home. I can't do this right now. I just can't."

Toad looked just about ready to scream if he weren't concerned about being overheard by their hunters, who must have been currently prowling around the main building. He collected himself somewhat and hissed, "Did you think I'd just show you the door out? You truly have no idea of the consequences of your return. Believe me when I say that I promise to tell you as soon as possible, but for now you must trust me!"

"You can't just stand here forever," Mario added. "Really, we'll sort this all out later. We just have to get out of here."

Luigi stayed locked in his position stubbornly. Mario was just about to repeat himself when Toad hopped past him. "We haven't the time for this," he muttered. And, with unexpected strength, he dragged a reluctant Luigi by the arm to the edge of the slide.

Then they went down. Mario would have likened it to a rollercoaster if there hadn't been a startling sensation of mortal peril burning in the back of his mind. They went around endless turns. Luigi looked sick. Mario's head was spinning. Toad's eyes kept checking behind them until, at last, they thudded out onto a stone floor.

The area they were in was a small alcove. It must have been a drain. The stone pipe ended at a large grate to the right, and continued into darkness on the left. The whole place was damp, overgrown with tall grass and bulrushes in those places where the stone tiles had eroded away or lifted. A chill overcame Mario as he stood up and felt the water from the soggy ground soak in through his boots.

"Wait!" Toad whispered as he yanked Mario back, closer down to ground level. He gestured just past the grate.

There, outside in the hazy yard, were two enormous shapes. They must have been at least seven feet tall, and even then they were only hunched over. Standing up, they would have cleared a good two and a half feet over Mario's own head. Their backs were turned, but he didn't need to see their faces to know what they were.

"Turtles?" Luigi murmured to Toad incredulously. "Are those turtles?"

"Koopa troopers," Toad replied quietly, "That one from before must have ordered them to guard the place after a full sweep of the grounds…"

Toad cursed under his breath and then hopped across the drain to the opposite wall. Seconds later, he motioned for the brothers to do the same.

It was then that a hole, just large enough for an adult man to squeeze through, was present in the drain wall just below the ceiling. Toad clambered up on the loose bricks and wiggled his way in. The brothers followed.

Mario hated tight spaces, and so did his waistline. It was impossible to see where he was going, and he didn't think he was making it any easier for Luigi who was stuck crawling behind him. All this amount of ducking through secret entrances was getting tiresome and there was no promised end in sight.

When they fell through onto the other side, Toad was already standing there, bathed in a pool of light emanating from a crack in the stone above. He had a pleased smile on his face as he leaned up next to what appeared to be a large verdigris-covered copper pipe.

"I did this myself," he said proudly, gesturing to the oxidized metal tube. "One can't take too many precautions."

"What is it?" Mario asked.

"A pipe, biscuit-head," Luigi remarked. Mario said nothing in return.

"A warp-zone," Toad corrected. "A _one way _warp-zone, in fact. It took me nearly a year to get it to work – after all, I had to learn the entire thing from the beginning. The important thing is that it works."

"How do you know?" Mario inquired.

"I've used it before. You go in this way, come out at the other end, but you can't get back here. I had to organize it like that so nobody would come across it by accident. It's my crowning achievement, I think."

"What? So like a teleporter?" Luigi piped up in a skeptical tone.

Toad returned him a bemused expression, clearly not understanding the terminology.

"So," Mario said, inspecting the edge of the pipe, "where does it lead?"

"The Second Realm, at the first tree north of the boulder on the east side of the river," Toad recited by heart.

After a pause, Luigi said, "Is that supposed to mean something?"

Mario whipped around. Maybe it was out of a genuine belief, and maybe it was out of spite, but he exclaimed, "I bet you twenty bucks it works."

"You first, then." Luigi raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

Mario shifted his weight up onto the pipe's brim and swiveled around so both of his legs were dangling inwards. Cautiously, he lowered himself and felt no distinct bottom to it. It was just like the bathtub, he thought. Perhaps it was that notion that convinced him to let go of the edge.

And he fell into the blackness below.


	6. VI: Clarity

**CHAPTER SIX:**

**CLARITY**

The boatman leaned over the side of his canoe, paddling absentmindedly at the gently rippling water below. He waded alongside the shore, keeping close to the mossy bank of the lake and the boards of the weathered dock. Few souls had been seen by his keen eyes in nearly three days (aside from the slithering beetles gnawing at the woodwork), and not a passer-by had any change to spare him for a boat ride. In the absence of business, the boatman had busied himself in trimming the creeping weeds that had obscured the area, in hopes that a clearer view would land him his next customers.

With only the beetles as his company, he had high hopes that he'd encounter some more interesting folk. Word had spread to him by old raven friend that the mark of the Mushroom King had been spotted once again. As hesitant as he was to believe it, the boatman was forced to accept that his friend had seen it with his own eyes: the pentagram pendant. There were two, he had said.

What tale did these pendant-bearers have to tell? It must be a fascinating epic of bravery and strength. What maidens had they saved? What enemy outposts had they conquered? Furthermore, how had they evaded capture for such a time? It was widely known that those who professed loyalty to the Mushroom King had been annihilated altogether by the Koopa Empire and the despicable _Daimao_ – curse his name. It was some feat to have avoided that type of awful fate.

Turning southward, the boatman gazed beyond the dense swamplands dotting the evening horizon. It was there he could faintly make out the thin orange glow that stemmed from the Eighth Realm – the glow that intensified as the sky faded to the black of night. From there, the seekers would arise.

Like the groveling beetles infesting the lakeside, the Goomba would come to creep across the remaining realms in search of these fabled pendant-bearers. When that time arrived, the boatman had only the utmost sympathy for those brave souls.

-oOo-

Mario cracked open his eyes. Cool air shot into him with a sharp breath. He was propped up against the side of a rather large rock and the thin shadow of his older brother was draped over him. It was night now, and they were situated in a very flat field. Toad and Luigi were talking quieter now, over by the tree that stood a short distance in front of him. Their voices were almost inaudible under the sound of a river rushing in the background.

The last he remembered, he had been descending. Beneath the rim of the pipe, it was as if he had been engulfed in water once more. That same bleary disfigurement of space had overcome him, coating his eyes in nothing but quick flashes. The closest thing, he thought, were those few seconds before falling asleep – where the whole day's thoughts come together in a cluster to bombard the senses. No matter how many times he experienced it, he had a feeling he would never quite get used to it.

In the process, things started coming back. He wasn't sure if they were even real memories, or just fabrications stitched together out of little clues. He had seen Toad. The boy was cowering in a gnarled corner, just sheltered by his surroundings from a neon onslaught. Tears streaked his face as he flinched with each burst of light. Beyond the safe spot, a disfigured and massive shadow stood. Surges of razor-sharp energy crackled from one fist – in the other, a fierce whip. Another shape was there, trembling at its feet: a woman…

_Pauline… princess… Pauline?_

Was she not the most beautiful woman he had ever seen? It was a terrifying image to see her crumpled at the mercy of this destructive shadow. He had to leap out and save her. He had to snatch her back from the grip of the beast… but now, with a brief glimpse at his own body, he saw himself as nothing more than an infant, stifling screams beneath a sodden wool blanket. How could he be so useless, so feeble, in this time of need?

But then he had glanced beside him. With eyes wide in fright, Luigi's gaze met his for a brief moment, and then looked up. Toad was there above them, and no longer did he cry. Now, there was fortitude in fear's place…

Mario had never recalled these scenes before, yet there was a familiarity about them. It was the same as it had been with Toad… the boy in the mushroom hat.

"Where do I know you from?" Mario mumbled at last, heaving himself back to the present, where the river ran strong and loud in the distance and the cool night air chilled his fingers.

Toad did not hear the words, but acknowledged Mario's awakened state. Both the boy and Luigi made their way over and crouched on the grassy terrain next to him. His stomach rumbled, and Mario then realized how hungry he was. The last he had eaten was just before leaving to fix the bathtub.

"It will take you a while to adjust to warping," Toad mentioned to Mario, "But you seem to handle it better than your brother. He's a retching mess, you know? He puked for a good three minutes."

"I think my stomach's pretty empty right now," Luigi groaned. "Do you think we should start a fire or something? I'm starving,"

"No," Toad said immediately. "The smoke would draw attention to us from miles around. We can't have that."

"Well we've gotta eat," Luigi grumbled. Mario nodded silently in agreement.

Toad muttered something and jogged off in the direction of the river. Before the brothers could ask where he was going or what he was doing, he shouted back, "You two stay put!"

Luigi dolefully slumped down beside Mario.

"I've got a funny feeling," Mario said, "that we're not going to be seeing home for a little while."

"You don't say?" Luigi grumbled.

Mario frowned. "Hey, don't be like that. Things happened the way they did, and now we're in a predicament. Give it a little time and a little effort and we'll find a way back."

Luigi sighed. "Do you really believe all this stuff he's going on about? I mean, the Princess, the castle, the King… It's like some dream you'd have after reading too many of those cheap fantasy paperbacks."

"Luigi, I'm being serious. Did you even see the size of those turtles?"

"_Koopas_," Luigi corrected sarcastically.

"Either way, are you going to tell yourself you didn't see what you saw?"

"I'm telling myself there's gotta be alternative explanations. Maybe we hit our heads one too many times and we can't remember doing it, and now we've got brain damage. Toad's probably a nurse just playing along with our games."

"That'd be a possibility if these were actually _our games_. They're his games, remember? We want nothing to do with this."

Luigi shook his head. "Nah, bro. I want nothing to do with this. You've got something you want here. I saw the way you looked at that portrait. You looked like you had stumbled back in time."

"It was a window, Luigi."

"Doesn't matter, does it? You've got Pauline on the brain again."

Mario chewed his lip, trying not to retort. What the hell did Luigi know about Pauline, other than her number that he had so carelessly thrown away? He knew he shouldn't get angry, and he really didn't have the energy for it, but the words stung a little.

"Hey, I don't mean it like that," Luigi apologized. "I'm just saying it wasn't her. You don't need to get attached to a piece of glass, Mario."

"I wasn't attached," Mario objected. "It was just a weird coincidence."

Luigi said nothing more. Toad had been gone for at least twenty minutes, and the resulting silence was becoming unpleasant. When he finally returned, he carried a little wooden box no larger than a square foot in size. On the side of the box was a scrawl of bright paint in the shape of a question mark.

"What's that there?" Mario asked him as he approached.

Toad fished his hand into the crate and brought out a handful of objects. It was a little too dark to see, but as soon as he handed them out to the brothers, they could tell exactly what they were.

"Mushrooms?" Luigi sounded slightly disappointed. He examined the bright red spots on its orange cap. It certainly didn't look like the most appetizing thing in the world. In a lighter tone added, "Well of course. You've got the whole mushroom thing going on, don't you? I mean the hat alone speaks volumes. You must really like these things."

Toad returned him a discontented face as he set the box down in front of Mario. "I'll have you know they're greatly important to my people."

Luigi quickly shut up and looked away. Mario, happy to have anything to eat, quickly shoved the fungus in his mouth and practically swallowed the thing whole.

At this point, he couldn't say he hadn't predicted it. In fact, with half of the information his brain had been plunged into, it seemed much more like an obvious fact than an abrupt revelation: directly following the mushroom's ingestion, Mario's hunger had ceased.

"After the siege on the castle, we were completely torn apart," Toad said as he began to pace around. "Even with us all being traditional allies, nobody could tell friend from foe. It was a confusing time. The Shy clan of the Fourth Realm backed out of relations, cutting our trade thin. All our imported foods were lost. Imagine a kingdom of people, having known nothing more than hearty meals for their whole lives, suddenly thrown into the dark where they must live off the spawn of the murkiest, dampest corners in order to survive.

"For eons past, the Kinopio, the ancestors of the First Realm, had cultivated and lived on the fungus. My predecessors believed in the simplest lifestyles, and only did what was necessary to sustain themselves. For a time, a short conflict arose between the tribes of men and the Kinopio, where the revered mushrooms were nearly stamped out of existence, but our forces soon joined as one underneath the flag of the Kingdom. And when the Koopas came, they conquered our lands. With the King dead and the Princess captured, we were leaderless and running scared.

"The famine came about, and we found the mushrooms again. They began to grow in the castle gardens. Our own soil fought back for us. Koopa troops roamed our fields and streets, and our secret to life was kept very well hidden from them. We transported entire boxes of mushrooms from place to place to feed the distant families that couldn't reach them. It was quite an operation we had going."

"What's with this, then?" Mario asked, pointing to the question mark-shaped scribble on the container's face.

Toad grinned, "The Koopas didn't know what to do with them when they found our hoard. A couple troopers tried them and died a few hours later. Before they could come back on orders to burn the place, we had it all cleared out and started moving them elsewhere. I've hidden a few at useful points like here. They keep well, usually. Just don't eat the black-spotted ones. They'll have you sicker than your first warp trip, I promise you that."

Mario sorted through the crate, bringing it closer to his face to see in the dim light. There were a few with those telltale signs, but they lay buried near the bottom. Given his keen food rationing skills he'd learned while living under a tight budget at Stanley's, he figured there would be enough mushrooms to last them for a while – perhaps a few months, maybe more if necessary. Something told him that Luigi would seriously doubt they'd need them for that long. He didn't say anything to his brother as he handed him the box.

"It's not safe to stay here for too long," Toad said. "Soon enough, someone's going to come looking for you here."

"Koopa troopers?" Mario asked.

"No, they wouldn't be sent out here. The only reason we were pursued by them earlier was because they were stationed in the area. No Koopa treads these lands without sending scouts first."

"Scouts?"

"Goomba," Toad growled in contempt, "the traitors to the Mushroom King. A thousand years ago, their kind fled from our side. As punishment, they were cursed into monstrosity. Now they do _his_ bidding."

"Whose?" Luigi piped up.

"The Koopa King. He seeks your death. Both of you."

By the looks on the brothers' faces, it became obvious to Toad that it was time to tell them. He had to do it sooner or later. Sighing, he sat down on the grass across from them.

"You came to me as children," he explained. "Thirty years ago, I was entrusted with a task: to get the both of you to safety from the hands of the Koopa Empire. I don't know why they wanted you dead, but they unleashed their legions on us. You barely survived the journey. Our company was dead, and the Princess was captured."

Luigi rolled his eyes, unamused. "Tell me how you managed to do this thirty years ago, when you don't look a day over fifteen."

Mario shook his head. "No, Luigi. He's right."

"What?"

"Didn't you see him when you were warping? His hat, his face? Didn't you recognize him when you saw him back in the castle?"

"No," Luigi replied flatly.

"I know what I saw," Mario said with conviction, "It was him, carrying us. We were sitting… no, we were hiding –."

"–from a great shadow, shrouded in smoke and mist," Toad finished the sentence as Mario's voice faltered. "Lakitu, the Commander. Yes. He was there. He was the one who took her."

Mario turned to Luigi. "You have to believe me," he said. "I know what I saw!"

"Okay, I believe you!" Luigi defended. "I ain't calling you a liar, bro. But at the same time, it's a little hard to accept."

"Accept it or not, the Koopa forces and their scouts will search every inch of the Eight Realms until they find you," Toad said in a grave tone.


End file.
